A Question of Quidditch
by lorelei173
Summary: Hermione Granger, Ministry employee, is tasked with choosing between Marcus Flint and Katie Bell for a new Quidditch position at the Ministry. When Draco Malfoy accompanies Flint to the interview, things take an unexpected twist.


Disclaimer: Everything Harry Potter related belongs to JK Rowling. I do not profit from this in any way. It's all done in fun.

"But why does it have to be me?" Hermione Granger could not believe she was being given the task of appointing a new department head in the Department of Magical Sports and Games, more specifically a new head to oversee Quidditch in Britain. "I have never once in all my life played a game and have not been on a broom since my most recent requalification."

"You've seen Quidditch games, haven't you?" Her boss smiled in a sickeningly patronising manner that grated on Hermione. "Why, back in my day everyone at Hogwarts would pour into those stands to cheer on the teams playing."

"Of course, I've seen Quidditch games and even dated more than one Quidditch player over the years…"

He beamed again, "Then where's the problem? You know what to look for in a good department head. Choose the best wizard…or…witch for the job!"

"But I, hang on…did you say witch? Is the Ministry finally willing to consider a witch for this position?" The Ministry employed many witches, a good many of them in high-ranking positions, but oddly somehow the Quidditch positions invariably went to wizards. "Am I free to offer the post to a witch?"

Her boss sat forward, his burly hands on the desk. "I want you to interview both candidates and choose the one best suited for leading Quidditch in Britain into a new era."

"Who are the two candidates? It's quite likely that I've heard of one or the other." Though Hermione had not made it a point to follow Quidditch, her ongoing correspondence with Viktor Krum nonetheless assured her a familiarity with any names known in the sport.

There was that smile again. "Katie Bell and Marcus Flint."

Hermione's face brightened at the mention of a former fellow Gryffindor, but fell upon hearing the second name. "Didn't he get ten years in Azkaban? Wasn't it ten years?" Flint, indeed, had been arrested shortly before the final downfall of Voldemort and found to bear the Dark Mark.

"Yes, and he's out now on the new early release program along with several other former young Death Eaters." He shook his head, though that smile never left his face.

"Well, it could be worse," Hermione tried to rationalise. "At least it's not Draco Malfoy." Hermione could not recall a time when the older and far uglier Slytherin boy had singled her out for assorted insults. She had likely been far too young to register in his mind, 'whatever mind he possesses' she thought with a somewhat audible snort. Only then did she notice the still smirking wizard. For a blissful second or two, her mind refused to process the likely cause behind the smirk. Then reality hit like a ton of bricks. "Malfoy will be there? Why? What possible purpose could he serve? You said Flint was being considered for the position!"

"Yes, yes, he is, but Mr. Flint has availed himself of the new legislation that entitles all former Death Eaters covered under the early release program to bring a representative along, an advocate of sorts, to ensure that they receive fair and just consideration when applying for any positions."

"And Malfoy is his advocate?" Hermione knew, just knew she should have called in sick that day.

"Yes."

Hermione wanted desperately to either hex the smile off his face or cast a permanent sticking charm to hold his face forever in that position. She wondered whether someone already had done so. "When do I talk to them? Have appointments been arranged?"

"They should be in your office shortly, if they're not there already."

"Now? They're there now? I've not had time for prepare for interviews. I can't talk to them now."

"Go with your gut. That's my advice, just go with whatever presents itself and trust your gut."

Hermione rose with a sigh and headed in the direction of her office. As always, she made it a point to refuse to even look at the name on the door…Percy Weasley. Any hopes she had for a few moments to compose herself were dashed the moment she opened the door to her office. She maintained as neutral a face as she could under the circumstances.

"It's nice to see you, too, Granger!" Malfoy smirked at her. He looked much as he had before his time in Azkaban, though was noticeably thinner and his hair even paler, if that was at all possible.

Hermione ignored the comment and greeted each in turn. Katie smiled and shook her hand warmly, mumbling "Thanks for considering me." Hermione wanted to offer her the position then and there, but knew she had to go through with the façade of a fair and impartial interview to avoid any accusations of impropriety from the Slytherin contingent.

She shook Flint's hand first. His grip was firm, almost firm enough to approach painful. "Quidditch is my life," Flint explained. "I'm very good at it."

Hermione nodded politely and turned to Draco Malfoy, offering her hand. For a second, Draco looked at her outstretched hand, following her arm with his eyes up to her face and with the smirk firmly in place, placed his hand in hers. "A pleasure, I'm sure."

Hermione looked at all of them. "You all know each other, we all know each other." She punctuated the statement with a questioning look.

"It's like a Hogwarts Reunion," Draco commented in a very droll manner. "Sorry, we missed the last one."

Hermione glared at him, as did Katie. The implication was not lost on either of them, though both were a bit surprised that Draco would be so flippant about his and Marcus' time in Azkaban. Marcus said nothing, just looked back and forth between the girls and Draco, almost as if he wasn't sure what they were talking about.

"So," Hermione began as she looked over the respective parchments detailing their accomplishments and qualifications, "your applications seem to be in order." She looked up at the two candidates. "Tell me why I should offer you the position." Her eyes went to Katie Bell.

"Because I'm the better Quidditch player," Marcus commented a little too loudly causing Hermione and Katie to both wince. "That's all I can do. Wand waving doesn't interest me and I'm not getting near any creatures!" He leaned forward in his seat, his fists tightly balled. He pointed at Katie, "There's other things she can do."

"You do realise that this position is not primarily about actually 'playing' Quidditch." She took a moment to assure herself that neither she nor Katie was in any imminent danger. "In fact, much of your time would be spent poring over boring manuals and sitting in offices. You would spend very little time on an actual Quidditch Pitch."

Marcus glared angrily, and then addressed Draco. "She's not even considering my application. Make her see things my way."

Draco waved his hand in an almost dismissive manner towards Flint. "Calm down, Flint. I told you I'd take care of this." Draco turned to Hermione, "How about we settle this like the mature adults we all are."

Hermione sighed in frustration. "What do you think we're doing?" Draco reached into his pocket and pulled out a coin. He placed it on the desk. Hermione looked at it and wondered why Malfoy thought she could be bribed with one Galleon. "First off, Malfoy, assuming I'd even think about accepting a bribe, which I wouldn't, it would take a great deal more than one Galleon." Her head cocked to the side in a gesture of incredulous disbelief at his sheer audacity.

Malfoy appeared unconcerned. "It's not a bribe, Granger." She looked at him, eyebrow raised in anticipation of the answer. "It's a Portkey!"

"Where did you get that? The Ministry still has those tightly controlled for very obvious reasons." Sympathisers within the Ministry had made use of Portkeys during the war with Voldemort leaving a swath of destruction in their wake. The Ministry controlled them even more stringently now than before the war. Hermione did not believe that Draco Malfoy, whatever lofty title he managed to appropriate for himself, could have secured one easily.

"I made it." Draco smirked in self-satisfaction. "I've always been able to charm anything…or anyone." He winked at her.

"Where would it take us? Why would we go?" If Draco was indeed serious, Hermione wanted to know that for a fact and be able to report that the former Death Eaters were now in the business of making their own Portkeys.

"To a Quidditch Pitch. It's keyed to us. Once we all touch it, it will whisk us away to the nearest Quidditch Pitch where Flint and…," he motioned with his hand to Katie, "whatever her name is can demonstrate their respective skill in Quidditch…along with any innovations they may have come up with in recent weeks and months." Draco looked at Katie. "Are you brave enough to accept the challenge?"

"This is really most unusual," Hermione started to explain. A feeling of uncertainty rested uneasily in her gut.

Flint stared hard at Katie. "Just you and me on the Pitch alone. Let's see who's really the best!"

Katie returned the glare. "You're on, Flint! I bested you countless times at Hogwarts and I can do it again now."

Both of them turned to Hermione, who looked at Draco. Draco looked back at Hermione. "What do you think, Granger? Both of us judge them? I rate Bell and you rate Flint. That's fair, isn't it? May the best one win!"

With a sigh of resignation and a half-mumbled 'can't believe I'm doing this' she nodded yes. "All right, if you two want a one-time performance on a Quidditch Pitch to be the deciding factor, that's fine by me." She looked at both Katie and Marcus, who were eying each other suspiciously.

"Wonderful," Draco beamed.

"How does this work again?" Hermione asked, looking at the coin Draco had placed on her desk not far from the Quidditch Snow Globe that Viktor had sent to her.

"Losing your touch, Granger? A Portkey is a Portkey. We all touch it and it whisks us to the keyed destination, in this case, the nearest Quidditch Pitch. Clear enough?"

Hermione was still unsure, but struggled to find a reason to not go through with it. "Neither of you has your Quidditch equipment with you."

"Not a problem," Flint interjected. "Any Pitch will have an equipment shed. We'll use whatever's there. Puts us both at the same disadvantage of using inferior equipment." He sneered at Katie.

"Any more worries, Granger?" Draco seemed impatient. Hermione shook her head no. "Good, then everyone stand around the desk and on the count of three; place your fingertip on the coin. Got that?" He looked at Hermione when he spoke. She returned his glare, but said nothing. "All right…one, two three!" All of them reached a fingertip to the coin and touched it at the same time. They disappeared in a blinding whirr, dropping onto what was obviously a Quidditch Pitch.

Marcus was the first on his feet and had already spotted the equipment shed. He hurried over to it, opened the door and grinned. "Not the best brooms, but they'll do." He picked one out for himself and handed one to Katie, who had followed only seconds behind him. A moment later, both of them were airborne.

Draco wandered over to the shed and found the case containing the Quaffle, Bludgers and the Snitch. He carried it out onto the Pitch and opened it immediately. First, he released the Bludgers. "It will make things interesting," he commented to Hermione who was watching with a frown. He grabbed the Quaffle. "Flint!" Flint circled lower and performed a flawless Wronskei Feint. Once he'd levelled out, Draco threw the Quaffle to him. "They'll each get a turn, don't worry."

Hermione watched as Flint and Bell flew wildly, almost in a blinding blur. Flint had scored already, easy enough to do since there was no Keeper to block anything. Hermione turned to Draco, who stood holding the Snitch in his hands. He seemed morose, almost regretful.

He caught sight of Granger staring at him. "What are you looking at?"

"You miss playing, don't you?"

Draco said nothing in response, but held onto the Snitch for the rest of the afternoon while they watched Flint and Bell demonstrate their prowess on broomstick. Finally, as long shadows began to spread across the landscape, both players returned to land.

"So, which one of us wins, then?" Flint wasted no time getting to the point.

"I'll give my decision in the morning. You both played very well, but I'd like to look over the applications once more before giving a final decision."

"That's it? I play my arse off for hours on end and you say 'wait till morning'?" Flint was decidedly red-faced once more, and clearly not from all the physical exertion.

"She said you'll get it in the morning," Draco commented in a not so subtle attempt to sway Granger's thinking. "Clearly, you were the stronger player."

"I said no such thing," Hermione added.

"What d'you mean? Of course, I flew rings around Bell!"

"You did not," Katie spoke up. "All you did was try to knock me off my broom!"

"Malfoy, can we just go back to my office now?" Hermione was anxious to go home and soak in a hot bath with scented oils to clear her mind and calm her nerves.

"All right, all right," Malfoy laughed. "Don't get your knickers in a twist!" He walked back to the site where they had landed and saw the coin on the ground. "All right, everyone, same deal as last time, on the count of three…one, two, three!" They all touched the coin, but nothing happened! Four sets of eyes stared at the coin, then each other. Finally, three sets of eyes landed on Draco, who stared at the coin shaking his head no.

"What are you playing at Malfoy? Put the real coin there and let's go!" Flint was obviously not in on whatever Malfoy had done. Hermione was not sure whether that was a good thing or not.

Draco shook his head, not daring to make eye contact with any of them. "I, I don't understand it. That is the real coin! That is the Portkey! Let's try it again." All approached and touched the coin, but nothing happened.

"What have you done, Malfoy?" Granger was growing ever more suspicious, not that Draco would try anything with them, but that he clearly had no idea why the Portkey no longer worked. Wherever they were, they were clearly stuck.

Flint stood suddenly and closed his eyes. A moment later, he disappeared and then reappeared a few feet away. He opened his eyes and looked around. "Why can't I apparate any further than a few feet?" His question was directed at no one in particular.

"Did you just try to apparate?" Hermione asked.

"He's right! It doesn't work! I can't do it either!" Katie sounded more frightened than annoyed.

Hermione turned to Draco, grabbing him by the collar. "What have you done?"

Draco's face had gone white. Hermione wasn't sure, but she thought he might be trembling a bit. "I, I don't know. The Portkey always worked before. I've never had a problem." He made eye contact with Granger. "Why can't they apparate? What is this place?"

Hermione considered his words. She looked around. It was clearly a Quidditch Pitch. She asked Draco, "You said the Portkey was keyed to take all of us to the nearest Quidditch Pitch." Draco nodded silently. "I'm not much of a Quidditch fan myself and so I rarely go to any games." She considered her words. "What is the nearest Quidditch Pitch to the Ministry Offices?"

"Bloody hell!" Flint screamed. "That's not where we are! I've never seen this place!"

Draco had gone deathly pale now. "He's right. I don't know where we are. I've never seen this Pitch before."

Hermione looked out over the Pitch…something niggled at the back of her mind, almost a nagging sense of…familiarity? Had she been to this Pitch during a forgotten game of Quidditch years ago? Who had played here? Suddenly, an image of Viktor Krum came to mind. She saw him as she'd first seen him at the Quidditch World Cup. She knew this was not where those games had been played, but the image of Viktor refused to dislodge itself from her conscious thought. Had Viktor played here? She stood silently, listening to Draco whimper while Marcus and Katie exchanged heated words about their respective qualifications and chances for the Quidditch position. The reason why they'd been in her office, had come to this Pitch, unable to get back to her office…Her eyes grew wide. "Oh my God!" She blurted out, causing the others to stop mid-sentence in their bickering. She turned to face them. "I know where we are." Expectant worried faces stared back at her. "We're on a Quidditch Pitch…the one nearest my office…the one in my office." She looked at each one of them in turn. "We're inside the Quidditch Snow Globe on my desk."

"That can't be!" Draco wailed. "I made a Portkey. It doesn't make us small enough to fit inside a snow globe!"

Hermione pointed to the landscape. "I don't know why I didn't recognise that before, probably because to me all Quidditch Pitches look the same. But I know now where we are and I'm telling you we are inside the snow globe on my desk." The words hung in the air. "And there's no way out!"

"What do we do?" Katie looked around nervously, her eyes lingering uneasily on Flint's hulking figure.

"Someone will come looking for us? It should not be long. At most, I figure one night in here and the best minds at the Ministry will figure out how to rescue us." Hermione tried to ignore Flint's snort of obvious disgust.

"You put a lot more faith in the Ministry than I do."

"That attitude won't help at all, Flint!"

"The Ministry didn't know its arse from a hole in the ground then and it still doesn't!" Flint spat.

"You were captured, weren't you? A good way before the end of the war, too, as I recall." Hermione pointed out.

Flint strode over to her. "Yeah, I got careless and got caught, but only after years of serving the Dark Lord. It certainly took the Ministry long enough to realise that, you little know-it-all!" Flint looked around. "It's getting darker and colder." He spotted the equipment shed. "I'll be in there if anyone needs me." He leered at Katie. "If you get cold, I can keep you warm."

Katie, visibly shivering, shook her head. "No thanks, Flint. I'm not that desperate."

Hermione, however, followed Flint's gaze. "He's got a point. We should go somewhere and inside. It is getting colder here."

"The more, the merrier," Flint chimed in. He put an arm around Katie. "Come on!"

"Let go of me!" She screamed. She knew she would not get any sleep…not with Flint leering at her.

"Come on," Hermione urged Katie. They entered the shed; Hermione tried to cast Lumos and was pleased to see that it worked. "At least, we won't be in the dark."

"Pity," Flint joked, still leering at Katie.

"One night, please? Can we manage one night of cooperation?" Hermione took charge, sounding more confident than she felt at that moment.

The night passed uneasily. The next morning, they filed out bleary-eyed and scanned the sky, wondering if they would see enormous faces peering down at them. They saw only blue sky. They tried sending messages, Marcus tried to fly as high as he could go, Katie did the same, but it was all to no avail. The days passed. Days grew into weeks and the weeks into months. The few food stores they had been amazed to find were diminishing rapidly. Tempers were flaring and the air was charged. Nothing changed. Each day passed as the one before it had. Gradually, they began to grow weaker, both physically and mentally.

Katie was the first to fade. Interestingly, Flint took it on himself to care for her. He was able to get her to drink a little each day. He kept her at his side, using his own body warmth to keep her warm as best he could. Draco grew more and more despondent with each day. Hermione tried to keep his spirits up. He would drink only when she spoke to him, her hand lightly resting on his shoulder. He looked lost and frightened. Hermione moved closer. She nodded off next, her head on his shoulder and her arm around his waist. There was no one left to hear Flint's soft chuckle at the sight of Granger hugging Malfoy. Flint was the last to go. He looked at Katie, secure in his strong arms and slipped away with a look of contentment on his harsh face. If it had to be, then with her in his arms.


End file.
